


The Other Side

by magnusbicon



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: 5 Times, 5+1 Things, Communication, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Not Canon Compliant, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 07:09:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11375145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnusbicon/pseuds/magnusbicon
Summary: There are some moments in life that cannot be forgotten or ignored. That is a fact that Alec Lightwood is quickly learning.orFive times that Alec is comforted by the people he loves without asking, and one time he does ask.





	The Other Side

_5._

There are some moments in life that cannot be forgotten or ignored. That is a fact that Alec Lightwood is quickly learning.

They seep into the little cracks in our composure and can either fill them up or spread them farther apart, making them harder to fix than before. We can never see them coming, so we just continue living with the knowledge that both fortunes and misfortunes can strike at any point, and foolishly believe that we will be on the receiving end of luck more frequently than the other way around.

So when we do get hit in the stomach with that breathtaking pain, it usually catches us completely off guard, no matter how much we have thought about it in theory. Because the truth is, no matter how much we imagine and play out scenarios in our heads, we are rarely correct in our assumptions.

If there is one thing that Alec hadn't been prepared for, it was seeing his little brother laying in a coffin, his skin pale, cold, and lifeless. No longer did blood filled with love rush through his veins, nor did pure happiness and excitement wash over his face. Instead he laid there unmoving, his eyes closed and his mouth twisted into a frown.

Alec thought he would have been ready for this, given how many times he had told himself that it would be just like the nights he found Max asleep on the couch with a comic book lying across his chest, the number of hours he had chanted,  _stay strong, stay strong, stay strong_ , to himself before he got to this moment.

But emotions are never that black and white, never just simple orders and commands. They are unpredictable, wild and uncontrollable as they bounce around in the bodies of unsuspecting broken people. They hit organs and they leave marks and scars that will never go away, a constant reminder of what has been lost.

There is no word in any language that can describe the gut-wrenching despair that floods Alec's body as he sees Max like this for the first time. He immediately turns away, holding his breath to stop himself from completely breaking apart. Izzy does the same, leaning against him as her body shakes with grief.

The reason behind their visit to the funeral home is simple: to make sure that everything looks the way it is supposed to, that the flowers are placed correctly and that Max is positioned and dressed the way the Lightwoods requested. After already having the knowledge that his little brother is gone, Alec assumed that it couldn't get any worse than it already is. He assumed that the pain would stay constant.

But no, there is such a significant difference between hearing of something happening and actually seeing it for yourself, he now realizes. His parents had kept Izzy and him away until now, not wanting them to see their youngest sibling like this until they had to. Not that that has helped Alec in the slightest, seeing as he was the one who found Max in the first place.

Alec has never been good at expressing his emotions, and this is no exception. He has become so accustomed to keeping the most vulnerable parts of himself tucked away in a locked box that it barely takes any effort for him to keep a straight face at this point. But there is something so wrong and unsatisfactory about the fact that he has not cried yet.

He has tried everything, from thinking back on every bad memory he can conjure up along with this fresh wound, to holding back from blinking for a prolonged period of time. Anything to possibly bring on the release he needs to stay somewhat sane. Never in his life has he wished to cry more than right now in this moment.

"I can't believe he's really gone," Isabelle whispers as they walk out of the building into the blinding sunlight. It is almost too bright, too positive for Alec to bear right now.

Instead of answering he just grips his younger sister tighter, emphasizing the supporting arm across her shoulders. His ability to speak and reassure has never been something that he has been complimented on, and he doubts that it will change now. Instead he offers help through actions; those are much easier to deal with, because he doesn't really have to think, he just has to  _do_.

He drives separately from the rest of his family, and though he originally planned on going straight home, he finds himself somewhere else entirely.

He has no idea if Magnus is even home at the moment, but he can't bring himself to go back to the house that used to hold the echoes of Max's laughter as his siblings chased after him, or the room in which he used to play games with his brother until the early hours of the morning. One thing that he had never realized or appreciated before was the fact that a house is just a house until it is filled with people who love each other. Once it holds that love, those memories, it becomes a home. And as much as he loves his family, Alec knows that that place is not a home right now. It is still and sullen, full to the brim with grief and regret.

Alec can't bear to step through that doorway and feel all of those things, because although he desperately wants to cry, he's also afraid that once he starts he'll never be able to stop, and he does not want his family to see him that way. They have always relied on him to be the strong one, the level-headed son and brother who had all of the answers they needed. But he has none right now, and he's not sure he will any time soon.

After composing himself, Alec gets out of the car and walks up to the door that leads up to Magnus' loft. He has a key now, so he doesn't have to worry about knocking, although it still makes him feel like he is intruding sometimes. He walks up the stairs slowly, taking deep breaths to make sure he won't lose it the second he walks through the door.

"Magnus?" He calls out softly as he unlocks the door. He is half expecting the loft to be empty. Magnus works from home most days, but sometimes he has to head in for one reason or another.

"Alexander, I wasn't expecting to see you so soon," he greets, emerging from the hallway that leads to his office. He does not greet Alec with his usual ecstatic grin, knowing just how miserable he must be feeling today, and every day lately. He does, however, offer a small smile and his hand, which Alec immediately takes, intertwining their fingers like it is his only chance at staying upright.

"Yeah...I couldn't go- I can't be there right now." He chokes the words out like they are poisonous, ashamed that he cannot face the rest of his family.

"Well you know you are always welcome here. Do you need anything? Something to eat or drink-" Before he can finish his question his phone rings, and he frowns as he checks the caller I.D. "I'm so sorry, darling. I have to take this. Have a seat if you want, I shouldn't be long." With that he pecks Alec on the cheek and slides his finger across his phone screen, picking up the call as he strides toward his office.

Alec stands in the entrance for a few more seconds before he realizes just how sick he feels. His mind keeps reeling back to how Max looked, dressed in a black suit that contrasted harshly with his pale skin. He almost looked fake, as though he was a wax figure, and briefly Alec wonders how cold he was, and if he should bring a blanket to the viewing. The thought is ridiculous, and soon he finds himself locked in the bathroom that connects with Magnus' bedroom, struggling to catch his breath. He slides down against the door and hugs his knees, simultaneously desperate to catch his breath and relishing in the pain that the lack of oxygen brings.

Because it should have been him.

 _It should have been him, it should have been him, it should have been him_.

"Alec, are you okay?" Magnus' worried voice comes through the door, and Alec lets out a harsh and breathless laugh. Just the thought of being okay is a foreign concept, something so far out of reach that it doesn't seem anywhere close to the realm of possibility. Instead of relaying these things back to Magnus, he doesn't answer, letting his ragged breaths speak for him.

Alec feels Magnus lean against the other side of the door, and it is enough to make his heart rip apart even further. He does not deserve all of the love that he receives, especially not now, not after everything that has happened.

"I'm right here, Alexander. Just try to take deep breaths," Magnus says, his voice a calm presence in comparison to the rather chaotic sounds of Alec's breathing. Alec does as he says, though, not wanting to worry him any more than he already has. No one should be worrying about him, because even if it is uneven and unsatisfactory, he is still breathing, unlike his little brother.

But if there is something that Alec understands, it is the pain of being unable to help someone you love, so after another few minutes he presses his hands to his face, then stands up without letting himself hesitate. His boyfriend is on the other side of that door, probably worried more than Alec can comprehend, and it is not fair to him to leave him there.

However, the second he opens the door he feels like he might collapse. Magnus takes one look at him and wraps an arm around his waist, walking him over to the bed. He climbs onto the mattress, leaning back against the headboard before gently pulling Alec along with him until his head is resting in the crook of Magnus' neck and they are locked together like two puzzle pieces.

Magnus runs his fingers through Alec's hair and talks- about everything and nothing- until Alec is breathing normally again, and even then, they stay there for a while longer, soaking in the comfort and familiarity of each other's presence.

_4._

His hands won't stop shaking.

It was easy to ignore earlier, when he did not have to do anything but lay in bed. But now he is trying to button his shirt and it is becoming significantly frustrating. He holds them out in front of him, willing the trembling to stop, but it seems like his body will just not cooperate with him today.

This has never happened to Alec before, and with every second that he cannot control something as simple as his hands, he feels more and more hopeless. He has plenty of experience with feeling out of control of his mind, his desires, his future, but the one thing he has consistently been able to pride himself with throughout his life is the control of his actions. That has always been extremely important to him not just because it keeps the rest of the world from being able to see into the deepest parts of him, but also because it has always been his way of proving himself. He may not be good at words, but he is good at proving his worth and his loyalty. If he cannot even compose himself in his own room, in the house that he grew up in, then how is he supposed to keep himself together in the funeral home in front of all of those people that be barely knows?

He is unsure how long he stands there, simply staring at his hands and wondering how he will get himself under control before he has to leave, but it could be hours. He has never felt so far away from who he is in his life, and the realization is somewhat disturbing considering all that he has been through in the past.

Seemingly out of nowhere there is a knock on the door, and before he has a chance to tuck his hands away, Izzy enters the room. He curses himself internally, wishing he had been listening for the clicking of her heels to signal her approach.

"Alec, we have to go soon, or-" she pauses as she sees him standing there with a still-unbuttoned shirt, staring at his hands which continue to shake uncontrollably. Without another word she walks over and buttons up his shirt for him, and even takes the initiative to fasten the tie around his neck. Once she is finished she looks at him for a few seconds, then wraps her arms around around him and hugs him tightly, resting her head on his chest. After a moment he returns the gesture, clutching onto his sister as though she is his only lifeline, and a lump forms in his throat. He has always seen himself as the one who needs to look after her, but it seems as though in the worst of times there is no right or wrong way to go about being comforted, because maybe it can be given and received at the same time.

When she pulls away she wipes at her eyes quickly and says, "Five minutes, and then we have to go." She leaves before Alec can reply, and that is probably for the best, because his throat feels like it is completely blocked off.

He looks at himself in the mirror- at his dark hair which is more disheveled than usual, the dark circles and the bags under his eyes which he is starting to believe will never go away, and his pale skin- and wonders if he always looks like this, or if this is how wearing loss appears. He wonders if it truly strips away certain parts of people, or if it just reveals who they always have been underneath.

It is not until he is almost at the funeral home, driving silently with Izzy in the passenger seat, that he realizes his hands have stopped trembling.

_3._

The words  _I'm sorry_  become meaningless after only an hour of standing in a line with his family, accepting the hugs and handshakes from people he does not recognize before they step up to the coffin to pay their respects.

Can they truly be sorry if they have no idea exactly what they are sorry for? They don't know the sorrow that thrums through Alec's veins every second, the excruciating regret that never stops churning his stomach, and the guilt that racks his body because he wishes he were anywhere but here in this moment. They do not know  _half_  of what he is feeling. They will never be able to understand just how much this is tearing him apart inside, and they don't know that he doesn't deserve to be apologized to. They don't know that this is his fault in the first place.

Feeling suddenly nauseated, Alec excuses himself, promising his family that he will be right back. He feels eyes on him as he strides through the room, heading straight for the exit, and walks faster. He is panicking, and not like when he first saw Max. He cannot breathe this stiff air, think about why he is here, or see anything except a way out of this hell that he was plunged into. He might hear his name being softly called, but it might as well just be a ringing in his ears.

Once he is outside he walks around the side of the building, and suddenly it's not just his hands shaking, it's his entire body. He presses one hand to the wall of the building and before he can stop himself he is throwing up the contents of his stomach, which wasn't much to begin with. He is unsure when he stops, only coming out of the sickening haze when he hears footsteps approaching. He finds that his forehead is pressed to the wall, and he is breathing in the chilly morning air through his nose despite the sting it causes.

"Hey, man."

Jace, his best friend, practically his brother, is standing a couple feet away, his hands in his pockets and a frown on his face as he surveys the scene in front of him. He is one of the only people in the world who always knows what Alec is feeling without having to ask. He was one of the first people to find out that Alec is gay and not look at him like he is disgusting or abnormal. Alec owes a lot to him, but in this moment he cannot bring himself to talk to his friend about what he is feeling, not that he really has to anyway. When Alec doesn't reply, Jace steps forward and pulls a little container of mints out of his pocket.

"Here," he says, taking off the lid and holding it out to Alec. "It looks like you might need a couple of these." Alec wants to glare at him, to tell him to go away and leave him here to suffer in silence, but he knows better than to try, so he just takes two of the mints and pops them into his mouth.

"I was going to come out here and ask you if you were okay, but clearly you're not, so how about we just stand here for a while until you feel like you can go back in?" Jace offers, moving to lean his back against the wall next to Alec.

"I don't want to talk, Jace," Alec says, and he meant for it to sound a lot more firm than it did.

"Who said anything about talking?"

So the two of them stay there, leaning against the wall until Alec feels like he has at least a partial grip on his composure. He is unsure how long they have just been standing, watching the cars drive by the funeral home, before he pushes off the wall and heads back toward the door. Jace follows him without a word, a calm and steady presence at his side.

There was a time when Alec was worried that Jace would get himself killed before they reached adulthood. He was reckless, and had little regard for his own life, always looking for the next dangerous stunt that he could attempt. Were it not for Maia, his now long-term girlfriend, he might've been lost to Alec and the rest of the Lightwoods forever. Something about her reigned him in, showed him that he is worthy of love and that in order to keep it he has to be just a little bit selfish.

At this moment, Alec knows without a doubt that he could not do this without Jace, and as he walks back over to stand with his family and once again gets hit with  _I'm sorry_  over and over again, he finds a reason, no matter how small, to hope for a future where he is healed.

_2._

In the days following the funeral, Alec keeps his phone safely turned off, and shoved under the clothes in one of his drawers. Officially he lives with Magnus at his loft, but he can't bring himself to stay there right now, unable to look into his boyfriend's eyes and see the pity there. He may not always get along tremendously with his family, specifically his parents, but at the moment they have something in common: Max's death is eating away at all of them.

His parents refuse to talk about Max, and instead dive into work to avoid the pain. That has always been their way, using their jobs in order to ignore their emotions and responsibilities as parents. That is why Alec grew up the way he did, with the urge to look after his younger siblings as much as he could. The thought stings, and his fingernails bite into his palm as he clenches his fists. He should've been there for Max that day.

The anger takes ahold of him suddenly and he stands up, pacing the room, his chest heaving with the frantic breaths he has begun to take. Once again the thought that came to him the day he saw Max lying in that coffin for the first time slams around in his head.

_It should have been him._

Before he can really understand what he is doing his fist slams against the wall, and pain immediately erupts through his hand. He does not yell or cry, instead just hitting again and again, his mind going blank as the pain takes over the hurt. He notices red splattering against the wall but he cannot stop, cannot bring himself to pull back from the temporary relief this is giving him.

"Alec?" The voice sounds far away, like it is echoing down a long, empty hallway. "Alec!"

Suddenly the voice is right next to him and he is pulled back, his arms restrained even as he struggles to continue. He can feel it boiling up again, the guilt, the unbearable agony.

"No," he says, his voice a desperate growl as he fights against whoever took him away from the only escape he has managed to find. "Let me go."

"Alec, stop." It is not until that moment that he realizes it is his mother speaking, and that is enough to pull him from the furious frenzy that he has submerged himself in. Never in a million years did he expect his mother to see him like this, or to even take the time to try and stop him.

He stops struggling, and the second he does the grief is back. He sags under the weight, allowing Maryse to sit him down on his bed. As soon as he is sitting she walks out of the room, and he figures that that was all he should have expected from her, but then she returns with disinfectant and bandages. Alec is too shocked to stop her as she cleans and sprays the wounds on his knuckles, to tell her that he doesn't want this to heal.

"You're lucky you didn't break your hands," she says, her voice as stern as always.

"I'm surprised you even care." He knows that he sounds bitter, but he can't help it. His mother hasn't taken the time to do anything like this since he was a little kid, and he doesn't know why she is suddenly making an effort now unless it's some twisted way of getting revenge. "I know you blame me, but trust me, no one hates me more than I hate myself." The admission surprises even him. In an instant the day of Max's death comes flashing back without warning.

_"Remember, you have to pick up Max from school today. Your father and I both have to stay late at work," his mother says as though they don't stay late every other day._

_"I know," he replies, rolling his eyes. He picks up Max almost every day,_ _yet his parents always feel the need to remind him_ _. "2:45 sharp. I've got it." Alec hangs up before his mom can say anything else, and sighs into his coffee mug. He has been stuck on this paragraph for what feels like ages, unable to think of what to write next. This happens to him frequently, and sometimes he wonders why he ever decided to be a writer in the first place if he can't come up with something as simple as a sentence._

_"If you're having trouble thinking I have plenty of other ideas as to how you can spend your time," Magnus says, his voice suggestive as he wraps his arms around Alec's waist from behind and presses a fleeting kiss to his jaw. Alec lets out a small laugh and turns his head so he can see his boyfriend better. "I've heard that I can be very inspirational."_

_"Hm, is that so?" Alec asks, a smirk growing on his face as he turns around in his seat completely to face Magnus. "I could definitely use some of that right now."_

_Magnus wastes no time in showing Alec just how inspirational he can be as he leans in and presses their mouths together, parting Alec's lips slowly. Before long, neither of them is in the least bit focused on anything besides each other, and Alec's hands are expertly unbuttoning Magnus' shirt when the sound of a phone ringing breaks through their concentration. Alec sighs against Magnus' cheek and pulls back, recognizing the special sound for when Izzy calls him. He reaches behind him blindly as Magnus leans forward and kisses his neck, and it takes everything in him not to ignore the persistent ringing_ _as_ _heat floods through his body._

_"Hello?" he says, his voice coming out way more airy than he had planned. Magnus is now trailing kisses across his jaw, stopping at his ear to nip at the lobe, which convinces Alec that he might just die if Izzy doesn't get straight to the point of whatever she is calling to say._

_"Hey, I can pick Max up today if you want. I know how much you've been stressing out over your book," she says._

_"Really?" Alec asks, and he hopes he sounds less choked than he thinks as Magnus palms his quickly hardening dick through his sweatpants._

_"Really. I already told mom and everything. Enjoy your day off, big brother." At this point it is a miracle Alec hasn't exploded, so he thanks his sister and bids her a quick goodbye, practically throwing himself at Magnus the second he hangs up the phone, leaving it on the counter as they stumble towards the bedroom._

_Later, after the two have both showered, Alec heads back to the kitchen where he left his_ _laptop_ _, and Magnus continues his own work. He does manage to get a fair amount done himself, and he makes a mental note to thank Magnus for that later tonight. When he finally runs out of ideas for the day, he picks up his phone to find that it is dead, probably because he left it unlocked in his desperation to get off._

_The second it is plugged in and turns back on, a heap of messages come through. Twenty texts and five voicemails from Izzy, seven texts from Jace, two voicemails from his mother, and one from his father._

Izzy: Alec something has come up.

Izzy: Simon fell off the stage and sprained his wrist. Again.

Izzy: We're at the ER right now, not sure when we'll be able to leave.

Jace: Izzy is saying you're not answering and Max needs to get picked up from school. Normally I would but I'm kinda not in New York right now. Long story. Call me back so I know you're ok.

 _Just looking at the first few messages has Alec feeling_ _nervous_ _, and he checks the time._

_3:15._

_Max got out of school half an hour ago, and no one was there to pick him up. Alec scrambles to his feet, running back into the bedroom to gather his shirt as he calls Izzy._

_"Alec, where have you been? Did you pick up Max?" She asks the second she answers the phone._

_"My phone was dead I didn't see any of the messages until now. I'm on my way. Hopefully he just stayed put." His excuse sounds flimsy even to his own ears, but his worry is just as evident._

_"Christ, Alec. Let's hope he did. Now get off the phone with me and get your ass on the subway."_

_"I'm going," he says, hanging up and shoving his phone into his pocket. As soon as he gets his shoes on he is out the door, not even saying goodbye to Magnus._

_Alec bounces his leg anxiously as the train seems to move slower than usual. Something about this entire situation has his gut twisting and turning uncomfortably. As much as Max likes to insist that he is old enough to get home on his own, he isn't._

_When he gets off at his stop Alec practically sprints to Max's school, immediately heading to the main office when he reaches it. He flags down the first person he sees, hoping they don't think he's crazy as he pants from the exertion._

_"Is Max Lightwood still here?"_

_"All of the students have left for the day. The building is going to be locked up soon."_

_He does not give the woman a chance to ask for his reasoning, instead turning and walking straight out of the office. His heart beats so frantically in his chest that he's sure it will burst at any moment. He starts to walk in the direction that Max would go if he was planning to walk home alone, and he is on the verge of hyperventilating after there is no sign of him for another ten minutes._

_He is seconds away from calling the police when he sees it, the blocked off road, the flashing red and blue lights, the police officers standing around. Somehow he knows, deep down, that he has made a horrible_ _mistake, something that he will never be able to take back_ _. He runs to the scene, taking forever and no time at all._

_A figure lies in the middle of the street, surrounded by medics. Off to the side a man spouting out profanity is being shoved into a police car, his wrists secured in handcuffs. It is like the second Alec reaches the scene everything begins to move in slow motion. Because he recognizes those shoes, the ones that the victim in the middle of the street is wearing._

_On the left shoe a large M is written on the bottom, while on the right shoe a large A is written. He recognizes them because that is the result of the bet he made with Max on who could fit the most grapes in their mouth at one time. Alec bet that if he won he would forever own_ _every single one of_ _Max's right shoe_ _s_ _, which for some reason annoyed his little brother to no end. After Alec won they went into Max's room with a sharpie and wrote letters on the bottom of every pair of shoe he owned._

_Alec keeps walking, ignoring the warnings of the police officers around him until they physically stop him from moving forward any further._

_"Did you not hear us? This is a restricted area."_

_"That's my_ brother _," he says,_ _pull_ _ing against their grips. Even as he speaks the words out loud, they don't truly hit him until the_ _medics_ _begin to load Max onto a stretcher and roll him toward the back of an ambulance. "Let me go!"_

 _The events of the next couple hours speed by in fragments of consciousness,_ _most of it_ _going too fast to register in Alec's mind. He remembers people talking to him, and he remembers responding, but he cannot recall any of the actual words that were exchanged._

_He cannot remember anything before the loud, unending noise of the heart monitor as it flatlined. He can only register that and the snapping of gloves and gowns as they are removed from the bodies of the hospital staff, and the sound of the head doctor who calls time of death. That is all he can remember before grief overtakes every single crevice of his brain._

"Alec," Maryse says, her voice not soft, but quiet. "I do not hate you, and I certainly do not blame you."

The words surprise Alec out of his daze, and all he can do is stare at his mother. She reaches out, hesitantly at first, and smooths his hair over his forehead and out of his eyes.

"You were always there for Max when he needed you. If you had any idea that he was going to be...hurt, you would have jumped in front of that car yourself. You cannot blame yourself for this. The only person at fault is that man who decided to drive drunk, and he will get what he deserves." Her voice is hard and full of promise as she says the last sentence. Alec cannot bring himself to agree or disagree, and after placing her hand on his cheek for a moment, Maryse leaves without another word, closing the door behind her.

Alec stares after her for a while, focusing on the pain in his hands instead of the confidence in his mother's words.

_1._

Time starts to lose its meaning as the days drag on. Most days Alec finds himself staring at a blank document on his laptop, unable to write down even one word to describe how he is feeling. The truth is, he feels numb, like he is submerged in water while the rest of the world lives on like nothing ever happened.

It's crazy to think that today, the past few weeks, have just been  _days_  to other people. They have held no significance, nothing to make them stand out among the others. Here he is, lost in a sea of uninterpretable emotion while the world spins on without regard for him or his problems.

_That's how it always has been, and always will be._

The thought is jarring, and he dismisses it right away. No one ever wants to feel so small, so unimportant that they might as well just be a speck of dust that could be wiped clean at any point, but lately that is all Alec has felt like.

"I know you haven't been sleeping."

Isabelle appears in his doorway. Alec doesn't remember hearing her open the door, and he wonders how long she has been standing there. She steps inside, closing the door behind her and walking over to sit on the edge of his bed. Her gaze is unwavering, and he is unsure what she expects him to say.

She isn't wrong. He has barely slept since the funeral, unwilling to submit himself to the nightmares that he's sure he'll have.

"I know that you haven't been sleeping," she repeats, "because I haven't either. I hear your pacing and I know that you're struggling just as much as me."

"I'm sorry." The words leave his mouth like a reflex, and he immediately hates himself for saying them. Wasn't he the one who made himself sick over how much he resents those words?

"We need to try to go back to our lives, Alec. If we're ever going to be happy again, we have to do the things that made us happy to begin with. We can't hide in this house anymore. It's just causing both of us more pain."

She's right. He knows it, and he wants to do exactly as she says, but at the same time the thought terrifies him. How can he go back to how everything was before, when everything is different now? He will no longer be able to see his little brother run out of the front doors of his school, a huge smile on his face as he spots Alec. He will no longer be able to surprise him with a new comic book or toy that he really wanted. He will no longer be able to talk to him about everything and nothing, and take advantage of his advanced maturity for his age.

He will never see him again.

"How? How can we do that?" His voice breaks, but he is surprised to find when he does not feel any shame. If there is one person that he knows will always be there for him no matter what, it's Izzy.

"I don't know, big brother. I really don't. All I know is that every second I stay in this house, knowing that he is supposed to be here with us, the broken part inside of me just cracks more instead of moving back together."

An hour later they have both gathered all of the belongings they needed, and they walk out of the door together.

_+1._

When Alec reaches Magnus', he doesn't immediately go inside. Instead, he sits on the steps and turns his phone back on for the first time since the funeral. Part of him screams that it is a horrible idea, but another part knows that he needs to get it out of the way.

The messages come through immediately, and so does the anger that he has been suppressing ever since his boxing match with the wall. His hands still ache significantly from the impact, but the anger that caused that is nothing compared to what he feels now.

He quickly learns that "I'm here for you" is everyone's way of making themselves feel better, and don't even get him started again on the "I'm sorry" messages.

Where are all of the people who insist they are here for him? Where were they when the grief hit him so hard that he was literally sick? Where were they when he was punching the wall of his childhood bedroom so hard that he left splatters of blood behind? Where were they in every other important and terrifying moment of his life? Certainly not beside him.

His hands shake again, and he is  _so sick_  of feeling weak, so sick of living in constant pain. He stands, and walks up the steps to Magnus' loft, and when he reaches the door, he immediately unlocks it. It is late, and he is not expecting his boyfriend to be awake. But as he closes the door behind him, Magnus steps into view, his expression a mixture of emotions, the most prominent one relief.

"Alexander," he says, and as he takes a step forward he seems to really take in Alec's appearance. His eyes travel to Alec's hands, no doubt noticing the trembling, and his own fingers twitch. He is probably restraining himself from making any sudden moves, not wanting to scare Alec off.

"Why don't we sit down?" he suggests, and Alec nods, setting his stuff on the ground and following his boyfriend to the couch. They sit a few inches apart, and Alec taps his foot nervously.

"What do you need?"

It is a simple question, but one that Alec has not been asked before. He had almost never focused on his own needs until he met Magnus, so it is only fitting that he would ask that now. Alec thinks it over, trying to sort through all of the emotions clattering around inside of his chest, and suddenly it comes to him.

"I need you to tell me the truth," he says, looking Magnus directly in the eye.

"Okay," Magnus replies, and his tone conveys that he is promising to do just that.

Alec takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he expects the answer to be, before he asks, "Is it my fault?"

Magnus' expression transitions from worry to sadness, his features softening with the change. He reaches forward and grabs one of Alec's hands, squeezing tightly.

"No, Alexander. It is not your fault."

That is all it takes for Alec to finally break. The invisible barrier inside of him disappears, and the first tear falls. A broken sob escapes him, and he presses his face into Magnus' chest, clutching his shirt between his fingers. It stays that way for a while, his tears soaking Magnus' shirt while Magnus switches between running his fingers through Alec's hair and rubbing soothing circles into his back.

After an unclear amount of time Magnus suggests trying to sleep, but Alec shakes his head, still unable to control his tear ducts, which definitely seem to be making up for lost time. "Please," he manages to choke out, "Don't. Don't leave."

So they stay like that until Alec finally gets himself back under control, and as they move to the bedroom to get ready for a night of well-needed sleep, Alec realizes that maybe this  _is_  what he needed all long, to stop holding in all of the things he was feeling and instead let them take control for a while. It is a strange and uncomfortable feeling, being unable to ignore the ugly and broken parts of ourselves, but it is necessary all the same.

Maybe regret, guilt, and sorrow, are all necessary for moving forward, or maybe not. But what Alec knows for certain is that they make us human, and with every human comes mistakes, and with every mistake comes a lesson. Maybe fault has nothing to do with death, and the only fault is blaming ourselves for things out of our control.

No matter what, Alec knows this: there are some moments in life that cannot be forgotten or ignored, and that is what makes all the difference between ignorance and wisdom.

**Author's Note:**

> I've always liked these kinds of fics, so I figured I'd give one a try. I hope you guys like it!
> 
>  
> 
> (I'm on tumblr as magnusbicon if you want to yell at me for this.)


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